1417 6 4
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The heart would have unnatural reverence, exalted, bursting with evil, rolling in sloth, if it did not at once reveal its innocence. I saw you again, on the morning of the sun. It was you, or your double, or a son you might have had. Your beautiful bloo
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141700
|
Meanwhile it was four o'clock in the morning, Pacific time. Seven o'clock eastern. The cat was busy chasing imaginary mice around the hammock—at least Manuel hoped the mice were imaginary. He loaded the next digital images onto the screen. It seemed to
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141711
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I took advantage of a free period this afternoon to nap. When I awoke, I tasted blood. My tongue was swollen. I checked myself in the mirror and saw twin punctures on my lower lip with pinpricks of blood on each. I winked at my reflection and lifted my li
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141741
|
Wicklow sat in the handicapped stall, pants down and straining, fed up to here with a world in which he couldn’t even take a decent crap.
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141722
|
"...does the nurse, doctor or veterinarian experience greater sexual satisfaction than say the housewife in DesMoines or the sixth grade English teacher in Passaic?"
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141732
|
The Intrepid Explorer recounts his travels for the benefit of subscribers to the Magazine of the Museum of Everything
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141700
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Behind the bellicose façade lay a soft, compassionate soul. He sat within a swirl of rosy twilight hues, buoyed by the gently creeping tide. A dark wall approached and he mechanically spun and began stroking into the glassy canvas of light and ocean that lay between him…
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141733
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The idea of an infinite textual universe occurs in many places in the works of Jorge Luis Borges. The contexts and permutations of language, which others had held to be perhaps infinite (allowing themselves to use such an imprecise term), that…
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141710
|
My bones will rob me blind, corpuscle by corpuscle.
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141711
|
I am only ever
What you seem to be
Without the leverage
Of sweet reality
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141700
|
In the state that the stars fell on,
Love and I stumbled upon bits of God
where he forgot sky and moon, too.
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1417165
|
Hey, Y'all! Like I told y'all, I checked myself into this what you call a “ facebook Rehab Clinic” up here just about 40 miles outside of Kalispell, Montana in a little town called Gulag. I quit MySpace and that got me a reduced rate. Things are…
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141700
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It is easy to look out on the Bowery and say, "There are the bums." Encountering one, however, even one who asks to "bum a quarter" or tells you he's "on the bum" the word "bum" slips away in one's mind...
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141775
|
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141732
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I don't mind being dead. It's ok. Really. I've discovered a whole new way of being based on non-being. What else can you do? I like being invisible. I like groaning and rattling chains. I used to be a writer. Still am. In fact, it might be more accurate to say that…
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141740
|
like old discarded snake skin,
dry and coarse after the bite...
immortally tortured by broken glass bottles.
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141710
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We called him Mickey Habanero, because he could fill his mouth with the hottest food imaginable, the kind packed with the sort of heat that would melt the gums from the teeth of a novice, all without taking a drink of milk or anything else that would otherwise soothe the…
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141755
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This was not the bar that the artist usually frequented.
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1417115
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Among the raindrops/
occasional plopping snowflakes.
|
141750
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Flicking the cigarette into the river the man's face becomes soft, as if waving goodbye to the only real attachment that he has felt in decades.
|
141765
|
I can do the hot coals, no problem.
Or, your love, eyes closed.
Or your sneer, spank,
suffering, resentment, rejection.
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141666
|
Above our bellies we are beautiful women with luscious breasts. Where there is skin, believe me, it is flawless, irresistible. Most of us have long hair, but there are some among us who keep their heads close cropped for aerodynamic…
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141632
|
a dim wood-paneled stair leading to the ladies’ rooms, candle-lit.
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141641
|
Ben was not a happy musician.
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141620
|
He had a lean build, except, remarkably, his midsection was perfectly barrel-like. As if he kept an alien lifeform in his belly, cultivated by years of Pabst and Yuengling transfusions.
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141621
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‘what’s the hassle kiddo, chopping meat is fun, come here and listen to the music of the chop, the sound of steel ripping through air, slicing through flesh and hitting wood, poetry I say’.
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141600
|
“We are NOT starving!” I stated emphatically. “What ever gave you the idea that you are starving? Honestly, Annie, you are so melodramatic. You have food in front of you right now, don’t you?’ I said pointing to her plate of potatoes and so
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141611
|
But the profligate are blameless now
Those who conflate sex and love the way
dumber animals mistake heat for light
have moved freely back to some primal zone
where if I’m felt to be contradictory to the
surroundings it’s because I wanted t
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1416107
|
“What do you want for Father's Day?” she asks. “Sex,” he says, his mouth curling at the corners, “and a bottle of Shiraz.” …
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14161817
|
The courts had scheduled the date long ago but the time, an hour always left to the warden, had yet to be decided.
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